The other night, my friend and I had a deep conversation about life and how we would live it if we only had six months left. If you knew—without a doubt—that you had just six months to live, how would your life change?
I believe most of us don’t truly live to the fullest because we assume we have time. We often hear people talk about making the most of life, but do we actually follow our own advice?
William Shatner has a song called “You’ll Have Time,” which captures this sentiment perfectly. Whether it’s a cover or his original work, the message is clear: famous people, just like everyone else, often think they have time—until they don’t. And one day, you and I will face that same reality.
We don’t know how or when—maybe a sudden accident, an illness, or something entirely unexpected. We go through life believing there’s always tomorrow, but the truth is, we can never be sure.
So, if you had only six months left, what would you do?
• Would you travel the world?
• Would you spend more time with loved ones, cherishing every moment?
• Would you finally finish that book you’ve always meant to write?
• Would you create something meaningful—music, art, a legacy?
Perhaps you’d continue going to work every day without telling anyone, or maybe you’d quit and chase your passions. Of course, financial constraints play a role in what we can do, but if money weren’t an issue, the only limit would be you.
Some might hide away under the covers, but I’d bet most would embrace life fully, experiencing everything they could in those six months.
And that’s the point—we should be living like that all the time. Not just when we’re given an expiration date. Because, in reality, we all have one. We just don’t know when.
Live like you have six months left. Because one day, you just might.
“I—I hardly know, sir,” Alice stammered. “At least I know who I was this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.”
And there it is: the gut-punch reality of change. One moment you think you know yourself, and the next, you’re tumbling down the rabbit hole of life, unsure of where you stand. Change doesn’t care about your plans—it sweeps in, flips the table, and leaves you scrambling to keep up.
But Alice’s story isn’t just about her interaction with the Caterpillar. There’s another player in her transformation: the Mad Hatter. His chaotic, nonsensical tea party might seem like a distraction, but it holds a deeper truth about navigating change and becoming who you’re meant to be.
The Mad Hatter’s Lesson: Own the Madness
The Hatter doesn’t play by the rules—he’s unapologetically himself, living outside the bounds of time and reason. At first, Alice is frustrated by his riddles and nonsense. But here’s the thing: the Hatter’s madness is part of her journey. He forces her to stop taking things so seriously, to loosen her grip on logic, and to embrace the unpredictability of her situation.
Change is chaotic. It doesn’t follow a straight path, and it rarely makes sense in the moment. The Hatter’s tea party is a reminder that sometimes, instead of resisting the madness, you have to lean into it. Stop trying to control everything and let the chaos teach you.
Change Isn’t Linear—It’s Wonderland
Between the Caterpillar’s cryptic questions and the Hatter’s riddles, Alice begins to realize that transformation isn’t something you figure out in a single moment. It’s a series of experiences—some uncomfortable, some bewildering, and some downright ridiculous. Each encounter pushes her closer to understanding who she’s becoming, even if she doesn’t see it right away.
That’s life. Change doesn’t unfold in neat little steps. It’s messy, unpredictable, and filled with detours. But every twist and turn has a purpose. Even the weird, nonsensical moments have something to teach you—if you’re willing to pay attention.
The Caterpillar vs. The Hatter: Two Sides of Change
The Caterpillar represents the introspective side of change. He asks Alice to question her identity, to dig deep and confront who she is. The Hatter, on the other hand, represents the external chaos of transformation. He shows her that growth isn’t always a calm, thoughtful process—it’s often messy, absurd, and a little mad.
Together, they give Alice the tools she needs to navigate her journey. The Caterpillar teaches her to reflect; the Hatter teaches her to adapt. Both are necessary, and both are part of what it means to grow.
Embracing the Madness of Becoming
So, what do we take from Alice’s story? First, stop trying to make change neat and tidy—it’s never going to be. Sometimes you’ll feel like the Caterpillar, stuck in the cocoon, questioning everything. Other times, you’ll feel like the Hatter, spinning in circles at a tea party that makes no sense.
And that’s okay. That’s how change works. It’s not linear, it’s Wonderland. It’s full of questions you don’t have answers to and moments that seem absurd until you look back and realize they shaped you.
The next time you’re in the middle of a transformation, remember Alice. Let yourself be a little mad, a little unsure, and a little brave. Take the lessons from the Caterpillar and the Hatter, and trust that you’re becoming exactly who you’re meant to be—even if you don’t fully understand it yet.
Because, honestly, who wants to stay the same anyway?
Want wings? Step into the madness, and let yourself fly.
